Finding Hope
by kittymchale
Summary: Who did Quinn need to help herself? Who would make her feel completely happy again? ""You are a terrible flirt," I mumbled, giggling under my breath. He sounded like a cheesy Hallmark card."  2 shot/Multi-chapter  QUINN/MIKE. Read and Review?
1. Reflecting

**OHAI QUINN/MIKE SHIPPERS. I'm Emily. 'Sup?**

**So, this is my first Quinn/Mike fic, so feedback is appreciated.**

**This will be a 2 shot, but if it's not, I might turn it into a multi-chapter. It all depends on how things go.**

Chapter 1: Reflecting

QUINN POV:

I sat on the little step in between the trophy cases at school, my reflecting spot. I guess it was more of a place for comfort. I folded my hands in my lap, a normal routine. I would look down at my stomach, at the lump that I knew would reside there for a while. Taking a gentle hand, I set it slowly on my rounded stomach, rubbing tiny circles with my index finger. Sometimes it would be in endearment. Of course, I loved this protruding bump, but at the same time, it ruined my life. I didn't know how to feel about this little girl and I don't think I would until after she's gone. I would sometimes draw little pictures or talk to her. I would even sing to her. At the same time, it didn't feel right. I knew even though I was this baby girl's mom, she wasn't _mine._ She was whoever was going to adopt her after she was gone away from me. Frustrated, I twisted a loose strand of blonde hair through my fingers, not risking messing up the neat headband that I put in place that morning. I groaned under my breath, fixing the white ribbon that was tied neatly around the bright blue dress I was wearing. I adjusted everything, aching to be perfect. Something un-accomplishable.

I think what I really needed was help. I needed a hand to hold on to, something comforting I could just hug and know everything was going to be okay, even if it was just for a minute or two. I used to find that comfort in Puck. I used to be able to run my fingers through his mohawk and get the sweet smile in return, the smile that made everything okay. Everything changed, I guess. He stopped paying attention to what I needed. All of a sudden, it was like nothing had ever happened between us. He started sleeping with Santana and it was all over. I just wanted a sweet smile for comfort again. Something to hang on to. A breath of fresh air. I guess that's all I really needed.

I got up from the familiar spot, heading down the hallway with my bag slung over my shoulder. I could feel myself waddle, something I absolutely despised. Sighing, I started to make my way toward my locker. The sun was pouring in through the wide windows that lined the vacant hallways of McKinley. I flipped my hair out of my eyes, getting a better view of what was ahead of me. I heard a echoing "beat box" noise coming from down the hallway a little further. I walked a little bit faster, searching for the source of the noise. There was an open door a few feet down. I peered inside, revealing a familiar yellow plaid shirt.

"Mike?" I said, stopping Mike mid-way through his vigorous dance routine. I had to say, I was impressed. Some of the moves he pulled off were amazing, like his feet had minds of their own. Mike stopped dancing and snapped his mouth shut, cutting off the beat box sounds. He folded his hands behind his back, standing perfectly straight.

"Quinn," Mike whispered breathlessly. His black eyes were frantic, trying to come up with an excuse for his actions. I had never really seen him before, or at least long enough to study him. I never noticed how strong his face was, how he looked like he was always put together and could withstand anything. For a second, the air was tangled up in my throat. I had to clear my throat, the air moving smoothly again.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my words accented with a breathy laugh. Mike half-smiled, looking me over.

"Uhh…dancing," Mike said, walking over to me, "What are _you_ doing?" His eyes lingered on my stomach for a few moments, examining it carefully. My had instinctually flew up, resting carefully on the bump. Mike looked at me apologetically, unsure if he offended me.

"Nothing," I said, embarrassed. I didn't want him to know I was reflecting on my life. How…nerdy. I guess I didn't want to ruin everything before we even became friends, which honestly was something I wanted, "Keep dancing. That was pretty awesome." I laughed, sitting down on one of the ugly orange chairs of the choir room. I crossed my legs, watching Mike awkwardly make his way to the boom box that was on the other side of the room.

"I'm tired of beat boxing," Mike mumbled, turning on an upbeat dance song that I never heard before then. Mike smiled at me and started dancing again, gliding across the floor. His dancing made me wonder if his moves were actually _real. _How he accomplished them, I didn't know. It was kind of amazing. He used the whole room as a canvas for this art he was creating. Everything was a prop in the mood he was trying to convey. It was upbeat and amazing, but still felt like it wasn't exactly happy. It was kind of missing the good mood that the song was creating. I stood up, walking toward the boom box. I turned it off, studying Mike's face carefully.

"What's the problem?" I asked Mike, examining his confused eyes.

"Nothing's wrong with _me," _Mike explained, "It's you. I dedicate that dance to you. You see, it's a dance of happiness, but not true happiness. It's being happy with that something missing." Mike told me, sitting down in my previous spot. I was confused for a moment, recovering as quickly as I could. It _was_ me. I sat down next to Mike, twirling a strand of hair in my thin fingers.

"Since when do you care about how I feel? I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but I can't remember the last time we talked as two people, not glee clubbers," I asked him, anxiously waiting for his response. I didn't want to come off as some kind of rude, hormonal teenager. Mike scoffed.

"Well, then," Mike joked, turning his back. After a moment, he turned back around, "Look, I don't know when the last time we talked was, either, but you look like you've been going through a tough time right now. You deserve a friend." Mike said, smiling sincerely.

"You are a terrible flirt," I mumbled, giggling under my breath. He sounded like a cheesy Hallmark card. Mike's face was smug.

"You think that's the only reason I'm talking to you?" Mike laughed, his eyes crinkling. That was the real sign of true laughter. Your eyes said so.

"No, I'm just saying your pick up lines are terrible," I giggled, folding my hands on my lap.

"I wasn't trying to pick you up," Mike said, "But if you want to be picked up, I guess I could arrange that."

"Okay, Mike, I understand that you aren't much of a ladies' man, but a man doesn't ask a girl out before they barely know each other," I explained, trying to keep my cool. My stomach was kind of fluttering. I didn't really know what to think of Mike at that moment.

"Fine, then. We'll get to know each other. Come with me to go get ice cream," Mike said, setting a hand on my knee. I crossed my arms, cracking a smile.

"Fine," I said simply, grabbing my bag again, "When?" Mike's face lit up.

"After school. We'll go straight from Glee Club," Mike told me, "You have to tell me all of your secrets." He joked, smiling.

"As long as your paying," I joked back. I paused, "Is this really where you go instead of the lunch room?" I asked him. I never liked to go to lunch, just to avoid humiliation, but Mike had lots of friends that liked him. I didn't understand why he avoided going to lunch.

"Yeah. I guess I really don't have much other time to dance. I can't really dance at home. My dad frowns upon dancing and singing…and not being extremely Asian," Mike explained, nodding. I smiled at him.

"I'll see you later, okay?" I said, walking out of the door. Today was going to be a good day, I hoped.

**LOVE YOU GORGEOUS LLAMAS**

**if you have any ideas/ships i should write about, please tell me.**


	2. Bacon

**Shadesz, don't throw your computer out of the window. **

**Chapter 2, y'all! Enjoyyyy**

Chapter 2: Bacon

MIKE POV:

I stood as still as stone, staring after the girl that just left me alone in the choir room. It was kind of funny, being I'd never really talked to Quinn Fabray before. That never stopped me from staring after her every time I saw her. That didn't stop me from falling hopelessly in love with a girl I'd never really talked to. That didn't stop anything.

After she left, I kind of stood there awkwardly, reflecting on all of the things I did wrong. I sounded like a really bad Hallmark card or something. I ran my fingers through my hair, still coming to terms with the fact that I did have a date after school. I smiled silently to myself, collecting all of the things I had in the room. I knew the day was going to pass by slowly after that.

How I started to like Quinn was kind of strange. One day, I saw Quinn at lunch, her hand resting on her face, holding her head up. She was picking at a little tray of French fries, her eyes flicking angrily at Puck and Finn throwing cheese at each other. She seemed un-entertained, looking for something to do. At that moment, I felt a piercing longing to go over there and help her. To take her away from the less than intelligent minds she was hanging out with. I imagined holding her hand under the table, hidden out of view. I then shook myself from the fantasy, trying to rub the glossiness out of my eyes before Matt noticed. The biggest part of it all was that I didn't care that she was pregnant at all. I would be the one that would always make her feel good about herself, even on her worst days. I would be there to hold her hand and let her cry if she's feeling bad. We'd simply be one, and nothing else.

I shook myself from my thoughts, walking through the vacant hallways. There was no sound other than the steady swish of the wind blowing outside. It was around the winter time, so I had no idea why I asked Quinn out for ice cream. I guess I didn't really care. All I really cared about was having a date with Quinn. I smiled to myself, retreating into 6th period Spanish class. Mr. Schuester was already there, greeting me with a warm smile. I glanced at the clock. We had 10 minutes left of lunch.

"Hey, Mike. What's up?" Mr. Schuester said, shuffling through the papers on his unorganized desk. I sat down on top of a free table.

"Nothing. I just have a lot to think about," I told him simply, clasping my hands together. Mr. Schuester chuckled dryly.

"You're telling me?" He said, pausing in his place, "What's on your mind?" He sat down next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees. He looked at me, waiting in anticipation for my answer.

"You see, I may have asked Quinn on a date," I said, watching Mr. Schuester try and hide his wince, "But, I really don't know what to do. I'm pretty sure Puck and Finn are going to kill me." Mr. Schuester smiled, patting me on the shoulder.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, Mike. Sometimes your heart puts you in compromising positions. Look, life is a very fun thing if you use it well. It's too short to waste. Go get that girl and make her yours. She's not going to wait around," Mr. Schuester explained. He hopped off of the table with my quick nod and went back to his papers.

"You need help organizing," I said, laughing at the pile of papers. With a tiny scoff from the teacher, I started the rest of the day.

I was right, the day did pass slow. I would rejoice each time the clock clicked with another minute gone. Once the day finally passed, the anticipation was too much. I grabbed everything I needed out of my locker, saying a quick goodbye to Matt. Anxious, I sped down the hallway to the familiar spot where Quinn's locker was. I was there before her, waiting impatiently. Quinn saw me, giggling in disbelief. She unlocked the lock keeping the door shut.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" She laughed, taking her things that she needed out of the locker. I noticed a few pictures inside of it. One of the Glee Club, one of her in a Cheerios uniform, one of a really, really obese cat and a couple of other magazine clippings. I leaned my back against the locker next to it.

"I guess I don't," I said, grabbing the bag from Quinn before she could sling it over her shoulder. She crossed her arms.

"I'm not _that_ pregnant. I think I can handle my bag. What's another 10 pounds?" Quinn scoffed, attempting to grab the bag out of my hands.

"No," I smiled, tightening my grip on the handle. Quinn gave up and walked beside me, her arms still crossed.

"You can stop pretending to be mad at me now," I laughed, watching a tiny smile play with the corners of Quinn's lips. I walked out into the snow, the cold air whipping around us violently. Picking up the pace, we speed walked to the ugly, red truck that I drove around. Quinn grimaced at the sight, "I know. It's hideous." It really was. The truck was wasting away to nothing, rust eating it alive. I was pretty sure the door was going to fall off sometime soon. I opened the door on the passengers side, waving a hand to the seat. Quinn got in silently, watching me close the door. I got in on the other side, listening to the old door creak in protest.

"This thing is a wreck, Mike," Quinn giggled as I tried to start up the piece of scrap metal. Deep, growling noises finally greeted us, signaling the truck finally starting.

"I know," I groaned, pulling out of the parking lot. Quinn reached for the radio dial, attempting to get anything to come in other than static. I watched her facial expressions out of the corner of my eye. She pursed her lips, slamming her hand down in frustration.

"Relax. Don't you remember we have _voices_? We don't need crappy radio," I told Quinn, keeping my eyes on the road. Quinn breathed in confusion, "I'll sing to you." I did. I felt the music in my heart, ever single word.

_When you're overwhelmed and you've lost your breath_

_And the space between the things you know is blurring nonetheless_

_When you try to speak but you make no soundAnd the words you want are out of reach but they've never been so loud_

_And if your heart wears thin I will hold you up_

_A__nd I will hide you when it gets too much_

_I'll be right beside you, I'll be right beside you_

Quinn shot me a bright smile. She was kind of amazed, blinking in awe. I never noticed how long her eyelashes were. I kind of stared at them for a moment. Her face contorted, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"MIKE, PULL OVER," Quinn screeched, her hand firmly on the door latch. I quickly sped off to the side of the road, freaking out. She whipped open the door, vomiting violently out of the truck. I leaned over, holding her hair back. She didn't look up at me when she stopped. She stared at the floor, demanding I give her the bag that was sitting on the floor. I obliged, watching her brush her teeth with some water from the water bottle in the little cup holder, "I'm so sorry." She apologized, muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth.

"Don't apologize," I told her, "Let's just go." Quinn collected herself and sat back into the truck.

"I wonder if they'll put bacon on my ice cream," Quinn whispered. She looked over, her eyes frantic, "I'm so sorry. Pregnancy makes you crazy." I nodded, laughing silently.

"It's okay," I said as we pulled into the ice cream place's parking lot. I think that was the only place in Ohio that was open all year round. We got out of the truck, entering the little shop. A curly haired boy greeted us. He was really tall, accented with glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi! Wow, I think you guys are the only people I know that eat at ice cream shops in the middle of winter. Either way, what do you guys want?" He asked us, flipping open a little pad of paper. His voice was deep and goofy. Quinn ordered first.

"Do you guys have bacon here?" She asked, getting a confused look in return.

"Sure…I'll fry some up right now," The guy said, waiting for her order.

"Okay, so I'll have some of that and some chocolate ice cream," Quinn said, her hands resting on top of her stomach. The boy flicked his eyes to her stomach and back to me. He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for my order.

"I'll just have some plain vanilla, thanks," I said, smug. He had no right to be judging her. I looked over at Quinn. Her hand was rubbing circles on her stomach, murmuring softly. Her eyes flickered to me.

"Don't be angry, Mike. I get the stares all of the time," Quinn told me. The boy handed us our ice cream and Quinn, her bacon. I gave the guy some money, walking away. We sat down at one of the ugly tables.

"Don't you get mad, Quinn? Aren't you infuriated?" I asked her, licking angrily at the ice cream. I watched Quinn top the ice cream with the slices of bacon.

"Of course, I do. I get infuriated over the whole thing. Especially Puck," Quinn told me, finally starting to eat, "I don't love him, and I never will."

"He's kind of a Neanderthal. I would know. I play football with him," I explained. Quinn's eyebrows furrowed.

"It's kind of refreshing to see a guy unlike them," Quinn said, grabbing my hand across the table, "As long as you promise to stay with me, We can go out." Quinn informed me, being completely blunt.

"I promise. Quinn, I'll always be there for you. I can't watch you get hurt. I don't care how many strange stares I get from anyone. I'll protect you. I promise," I said, staring straight into her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered. I knew that was a response. I knew that she would be mine, just like I was hers.

_I'll be right beside you_

**I think it ends here, awesome owls. **

**"Beside You" by Mariana's Trench is the song. Go listen to it. Right now.**

**I love you all!**


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